


Otayuri RPF

by kalakagatha



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: In-Universe RPF, M/M, Masturbation, Meta, Yuri's one of us, obsessive fic reading, so is Otabek, we've all been there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 20:22:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10749120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalakagatha/pseuds/kalakagatha
Summary: @yurizangelOMG @otafurry, what are you doing tagging Yuri in your fic link? Don’t do that shit! Hashtags, not @-signs! #stupidnewb #rpfhasrules@iceicetigerDo we have to go over the ten RPF commandments again? DO NOT SHARE THE RPF WITH THE RP. @yurizangel @otafurryYuri discovers Figure Skating RPF





	Otayuri RPF

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in the middle of a WIP, but this plot bunny took hold and wouldn't let go. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> I'm on Tumblr, come say hi!

**@yurizangel** OMG @otafurry, what are you doing tagging Yuri in your fic link? Don’t do that shit! Hashtags, not @-signs! #stupidnewb #rpfhasrules

 **@iceicetiger** Do we have to go over the ten RPF commandments again? DO NOT SHARE THE RPF WITH THE RP. @yurizangel @otafurry

***

Yuri’s eyes widened. He didn’t usually pay that much attention to the tagging done by random fans, but occasionally they would bring him something interesting. Not unlike his cat fetching up a bird or a mouse and leaving it at his doorstep, but usually less disgusting.

 _This_ looked intriguing.

He tapped the link marked in the tweet, less because it was a story about him than because a whole lot of other people seemed _really pissed_ that he had been tagged.

He was expecting a blog post or a news story, a bunch of paparazzi pictures, or something like that. He was used to seeing his Angels spam that kind of stuff at him. But this? This was something new.

The link took him to a site called FigureSkaterFiction. It appeared to be some kind of archive of creative stories, not news stories. The particular story that the link had brought up for him appeared to actually feature him as a character? Huh.

He didn’t understand the word and letter salad at the heading of the story, so he just skipped all that stuff and started reading. It actually wasn’t too bad. He was deep into the story when he realized it was...moving...in an unexpected direction.

“Oh!” Yuri breathed, face flushing scarlet.

It’s not that he had never browsed NSFW pics or read the occasional sexual exploit story in a chatroom. But this, this was different. This was about _him_. Him, and **Otabek**?

He went back over the line that had stopped him short. “Otabek gunned the motorcycle, and Yuri clung tighter to the older skater’s waist, suddenly finding himself carelessly grinding against his denim-clad ass.”

He let out a deep breath, not realizing he had been holding one in. If anyone had claimed to his face that he had a crush on Otabek, he’d probably knock their coffee from their hand. But right now he was settled in his own bed, with no observers. No one to prove anything to.

He kept reading.

Pretty soon, the story’s arc became pretty clearly focused on getting Yuri and Otabek in bed together, and Yuri couldn’t stop reading it. He could stop and let himself examine it, figure out why he wasn’t angry about this invasion of his privacy, but he was too turned on by the damn thing to let it actually make him _think_ about anything. Pretty soon the hand that wasn’t holding his phone began snaking down his pants. He stroked himself, gently at first. But as the story got more intense so did the handling of his own dick. He only stopped reading once he really couldn’t handle the simultaneous brain and cock stimulation, and he squeezed his eyes shut to focus only on his hand and his groin as his balls started to tighten and his breath stuttered. Finally, he came all over his hand and opened his eyes, gasping for air.

“Fuck.”

All the thoughts that he had pushed away while he was masturbating came flooding back into his head. Did this mean he wants Otabek? Or was it just a natural physical reaction to a sexy story? Featuring...himself and his BFF. Was this going to make their friendship weird? Would he have to stop reading this story in order to keep it from getting too weird?

Well, there was no reason to go _that_ far.

He picked the phone back up off his bedcovers and read the post-sex cuddling conclusion. Otabek was snuggling him from behind and playing with his hair, murmuring sweet nothings in his ear.

Goddamn, but that sounded nice. Yuri fell asleep, full of thoughts of Otabek’s gentle touches.

The next day Yuri threw himself into practice, trying not to let himself get distracted by the story that had filled his brain the night before. But every moment that he had to himself, every break in action or even the quiet moments while he practiced his footwork out on the ice, he could think of nothing but Otabek’s body covering his, Otabek’s hands gliding down his arms, his sides, and coming to rest at his hips, squeezing his buttocks while they kissed deeply. Clearly this story had awakened feelings he wasn’t even aware had been there. What was he going to do about it?

Well, in the short term, what he had to do about it was frequent bathroom breaks with quick, efficient jerkoffs into the toilet.

That night, when he got home, he tapped back into the story where he had left it open. He finally examined all the letters and words at the heading, and worked out some of their meanings. It looked like some of them were also links, and so, telling himself it was just curiosity and it didn’t necessarily have to lead to another night like last night, he gently touched the link labeled “Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky.”

Oh, gods. There was _so much_ of it. Widening his eyes and tilting his head, Yuri examined the list. He had so many questions. What’s a/b/o? What does AU stand for? But then he started to realize that he could organize the list by sex act. Did...did he want to read about himself and Otabek and anal fingering?

It was all downhill from there. Soon, Yuri found himself checking the list of stories every chance he got. He subscribed to works-in-progress, he bookmarked his favorites. He started sneaking little reading sessions during training, which was getting dangerous. It was turning into a distraction. If any one of his rink mates dared make a comment about his distracted state of mind, he lashed out in his usual way, but his heart wasn’t really in it. He was too full of warm feelings and images of himself wrapped around Otabek’s body.

He wasn’t sure he would get the obsession with these stories out of his system until he had read every single one of them. But he wasn’t sure that was even possible, because just when he thought he had read them all, the next day there would be more. It was like an all-you-could-eat buffet of smut, and he was gorging himself. At first, he had cringed a little at some of the more hardcore concepts: the BDSM, the MPreg. But before long he was reading those too, and admiring the skill of many of the writers. The descriptions just _flowed_ from them like his skates flowed over the ice--so fluid, so unencumbered. Sure, some of the stories were a little amateur, but even those could often get him hot with a creative concept or vivid image.

Two weeks sped by in which every waking moment he had to himself ended with one hand holding his phone, thumb scrolling through a story while the other hand pleasured himself to climax. He felt physically great: full of energy and motivation. He imagined Otabek watching him train, admiring his graceful body spin and jump. He had had enough of Otabek’s point of view fill his mind that he found himself shifting the narrative of his own life to that perspective.

There was only one problem. He had stopped actually talking to the _real_ Otabek.

It was just...too weird. He would have to talk to him again of course. He _wanted_ to talk to him again. He just wasn’t sure he _could_ without imagining every exquisitely filthy thing he had read about them doing to each other. Yuri Plisetsky wasn’t the most self-aware creature on the planet, but he knew enough to know he wouldn’t be able to keep those thoughts off his expressive face.

And Otabek was...well, Otabek. He would always be there, waiting for Yuri to call or message him. Yuri may have worried about freaking him out with weirdness, but he wasn’t worried about Otabek getting mad at him for an extended silence. Otabek always met him where he was, and accepted whatever Yuri was willing to give him.

In fact, that was an element of his character that the fiction writers always got right. The bits of Yuri and Otabek’s relationship that had been publicized--especially the “rescue” from his over-adoring fans in Barcelona--had established in their fans the idea that Otabek was Yuri’s rock, the foundation that the temperamental Russian ice tiger threw himself against and that never let him fall.

And they were right.

Could they...could they be right about the rest of it too?

Yuri wanted to talk to Otabek. He _missed_ him. Surely he could risk a snap or a text. He would be less likely to blush at him that way.

He picked up his phone, and scrolled through his contacts to “Beka.”

 **Hey asshole**.

The reply came quickly. Beka must have just finished practice for the day.

 _Hey stranger_.

**Uh, yeah. Sorry about the radio silence. I’ve been busy.**

_Me too. It’s okay._

There it was. Solid Otabek, always waiting for Yuri, always accepting.

What if? What if Yuri probed a little? Tried to see if the rest of the characterization followed?

What if Otabek really did love Yuri?

**I, uh, discovered a thing on the internet.**

_The internet is indeed full of things._

**This is...a specific thing.**

_Okay..._

Shit, this was hard. 

**Do you have time? Can I call?**

_Sure._

He hit the call button. Of course Otabek answered immediately.

“Hey,” he said softly. “What’s going on Yura? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine Otabek. I just...”

“What is it? Did something happen?”

Yuri took a deep breath. He would go slow, and abandon ship if the seas got too rough.

“Some rando fan on twitter linked me to this...story. It’s...it’s called real person fiction.”

“I’ve heard of it, yes.” Otabek sounded cautious, but not concerned. Full steam ahead.

“I, uh...started reading it. A...a lot of it.”

“Oh yeah? You found some good stuff then, I take it?”

“Yeah...um. Some of it is about us. Did you know?”

He heard Otabek take a deep breath. “Is that right? And what do we do in these stories?”

Now it was Yuri’s turn to take a breath. “Everything, Beka. We do _everything_.” He started giggling. “And oh my god, Beka, I couldn’t get enough of it.” The nervousness bubbled up out of him until he was laughing out loud. It wasn’t a mocking laugh, Otabek could tell. It wasn’t that Yuri was laughing at the idea of them in every situation and position. It was _joyful_ laughter.

Yuri could almost _hear_ the cocked eyebrow and smirk on Otabek’s face as he reacted to Yuri’s laughter. “Now, that sounds interesting. Do you have any recommendations? I’d love to take a look at your favorites. Otabek paused. Then took another deep breath.

“And in return, I’ll send you some of mine.”

Yuri gasped. “Your favorites?”

Otabek’s voice sounded a bit muffled, like his hand was over his face while he spoke.

“No...no. Not my favorites. My fic.”

Yuri’s eyes lit up like sunshine on a summer’s day.

_"Yes, PLEASE."_


End file.
